All these airplane rides (for Tyler) bring to mind my most memorable airplane trip. My sister Allison lived in Utah while I was in high school; she's 8 years older than me. Because she is a super cool older sister, she would invite me to stay with her during Christmas break. I think I did this at least two, maybe three times. I'd fly out at the beginning of my break, hang out and get a taste of what hip twenty-somethings did in their spare time, then we would fly home together in time for Christmas. I thought my sister was super awesome (I still think this) and so I enjoyed these trips immensely.
One year, we figured out that it is much cheaper to fly on Christmas Day, rather than Christmas Eve. This we did, I think I was 16 this year. We had a short lay over in Las Vegas where Allison (jokingly?) asked if I wanted to play the slots. As was characteristic of my prudish self, I think I replied something like "#1. I'm only 16 and that's illegal. #2. It's a double sin to gamble on Christmas Day." Why she let me hang around with her, I'm not sure. We got into Ontario Airport sometime in the early afternoon and waited out front to be picked up. And waited. And waited.
We had been forgotten. On Christmas day.
I don't think either one of us had a cell phone, this being 10 years ago, so there was quite a bit of, "do you think they forgot us?" "No, they couldn't have. Maybe they went to the wrong terminal? (Ontario has two separate terminals, just to make things confusing)" Once we found a phone and got it all sorted, my mom came right away.
*I hope I'm not making anyone feel bad by telling this story, I thought it was funny at the time (well, maybe the day after) and I think it's funny now.
2 comments:
First, I'm sure I was joking about the slots, although I don't remember. Second, I remember that it hurt my feelings that we had been forgotten. It's not like they were just late, everyone was still at home, not even on their way. THEN, sorry to dredge up old wounds, Amy and Anne complained and sat on the stairs protesting that they had to watch us open our gifts. Meany pants. Sniff Sniff... I'm still not over it. Well, maybe I am.
I have zero memory of this. This doesn't sound like me at all! I love watching everyone open their stuff! I really don't remember you even going up to Utah..... Maybe I didn't live at home? Craziness....
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